


Lover

by drarryplaylist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Album: Lover (Taylor Swift), Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Getting Back Together, Healer Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Legal Drama, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryplaylist/pseuds/drarryplaylist
Summary: A story of two idiots overcoming their own hang ups on who they are and who they should be, 10 years after a summer to remember. Each chapter inspired by a song off of the "Lover" album.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 8





	1. I Forgot That You Existed

Chapter 1: I Forgot That You Existed

“I forgot that you existed   
It isn't love, it isn't hate   
It's just indifference

I forgot that you   
Sent me a clear message   
Taught me some hard lessons   
I just forget what they were   
It's all just a blur”

It was a dark and stormy night because wasn’t it always a dark and stormy night at the beginning of a story? Harry wasn’t completely sure what nightmare had woken him this time just that it had been enough to quicken his breath and leave him in a sheen of sweat. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a sigh. He rolled over to look out the bay window to his left. The stars were barely visible in the light of London and through the thick clouds patching the sky, but it comforted Harry to see them none the less.

A movement to his right confirmed that his partner from the night before was still in his bed. Soon a small hand was toying with his chest hair. Harry did not turn to look at the man next to him. He didn’t need to to know that this was a mistake. He had been too drunk and sloppy in the wake of another war anniversary and had pulled the first lithe blonde that smiled his way. 10 years since the night he had killed Voldemort and the world was moving on. 

That had been the hardest part of his new role as poster boy for the Ministry. He was supposed to move them forward. Help everyone push past the stench of death that clung to every memory he had of the wizarding world. Not a single person or place he had did not remind him of someone that had been lost. Hermione had insisted on a mind healer shortly after the war and Harry had dutifully attended. It had helped, of course. He was barely even surprised when he started to not break into tears every time he walked into Grimmauld Place. His faith in Hermione was unshakable and he would have been more surprised if it hadn’t helped him. Lips on his neck brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Ready for another round, heroo?” The drug out the "O" on the end as they walked their finger down his chest. 

Harry felt sick to his stomach. God, he had to have been thoroughly sloshed to take home someone who would so casually cast aside the negatives that came with that title. Harry pushed the man away, sat up, and swung his legs off the side of the bed. 

“I think it's time for you to go.” His voice was rough as he tried to suppress the anger welling up. It was bad enough he had been sloppy enough to take the lad home, he didn’t need him running to the Prophet to sell tales of the Boy Who Lived To Have One Night Stands. Sure the press had died down since he came out but that was due in large part to his careful practices and lack of social life. 

“What? I thought we could go another and then maybe get breakfast?” A hopeful lilt to the voice didn’t stop as Harry picked up his companion’s clothes and threw them on the bed. 

“No. Get dressed, go home.”

He turned to face the man in his bed who was sitting up looking at his clothes with furrowed brows. His hair looked less blonde and his face more rounded than Harry usually preferred. His brown eyes were wide as he looked at Harry in disbelief. “I thought…”

“You thought wrong. I appreciate the effort, I guess? But I’m not interested in anything else. The floo is open in the living room and there is fruit in the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself before you go. I’m going to shower now, and I’d appreciate it if you weren’t here when I got out.”

Harry heard some sputtering and an insult that Harry was sure the man had meant to provoke a response, but Harry was already through the door and turning the knob for the shower. As he stepped under the stream of water, he wondered if he would die alone like the rest of his heroes. 

* * *

Draco Malfoy was defined by many things, his torrid past, his sharp and aristocratic features, his penchant for black and his exceptional bedside manner being the most well known. However, being on time was unfortunately not going to be added to that list. He sped through the crowded lobby of the Ministry clutching his folders to his chest and checking his Apple watch that Pansy had insisted he get. 

“Shite.” A text came through on his watch with the frantic message of “Where are you??” Draco nudged his way into the elevator and pressed the button for the DMLE – Magical Legislation and Prosecution. Nervously tapping his foot, he waited at the front of the elevator for it to open again. Behind him a large, sweaty potato of a man, leaned close to him and inhaled deeply. Draco grimaced and waved his hand quickly sending a stinging hex at the man’s balls. 

“Yow! You little bit-“

The bell dinged and the doors opened. Draco rushed out of them not bothering to check the floor. As soon as he was out of sight of the elevator, he looked around to realize he had gotten off two floors below the correct one. His mind raced, of all days to have this problem.  _ Think Draco, think! _ He would take the stairs. He was a fit 28 year old with long legs. If he took two at a time, he would be able to make it in no time. He glanced at his watch as he made his way to the stairs, he would only be 15 minutes late.  _ Fuck. _ He shook his head and looked up just in time to hit the solid chest of Harry Potter. 

Draco started to fall backwards only to be steadied by two large strong hands. The press of Potter’s fingertips through Draco’s black turtleneck was electric. Readjusting his folders, Draco looked up to meet Potter’s eyes. 

The green of his eyes was overwhelming. Draco’s breath caught as he remembered blown pupils and how those eyes fluttered close as Draco swallowed him whole. Draco shook his head to encourage those memories to go the same way of the relationship that never really was. 

“Draco.” 

“Potter.”

Harry’s hands were still on his shoulders as they stood in the middle of the hallway staring at each other.  _ Potter, not Harry, _ Draco thought annoyed that even after almost 9 years he couldn’t maintain the distance in his mind. Draco shrugged and Potter removed his hands as if he’d been burned. Draco almost winced. 

“Fastest way to get to Hermione’s office?” He may not be thrilled to run into Potter but at least it meant he could get proper directions more easily. Potter cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow causing his glasses to slide down his nose slightly. 

“Take the elevator to flo-“

“No elevator.” Draco interrupted quickly. He was sure it was faster for him another way. He felt too out of control in an elevator. At least if he was on foot he could choose to run. 

“Ok… stairs down the hall to the left.” Draco was off almost before the last syllable was out of Potter’s mouth. He gripped his folders tightly and put all of his anger with himself into his run. When he reached the door he propelled himself up two flights easily. Nothing like running into an ex to light a fire to get out of the area as fast as possible. He took a large breath in the stairwell before he pushed the door open to Hermione’s floor. 

While the stairwell had been the typical grey industrial style of the rest of the ministry, the Offices of Magical Legislation and Prosecution were like something out of his father’s wet dreams. The color scheme was all rich green and gold hues accented by dark wood. He felt vaguely like he was back in the Slytherin dorms. He spared a chuckle to himself that Hermione Granger ended up running a place like this. 

Draco adjusted his shoulders and cleared his throat as he walked to the receptionist's desk. 

“Draco Malfoy here to see Hermione Granger.”

“Bit late, aren’t you?” Draco turned to see Hermione leaning against the doorway of a conference room. She was a world away from the girl he knew in school. Her bushy hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head with several strands falling artfully around her face. She wore a white chiffon top with the top three buttons unbuttoned with a black tank top underneath. Navy slacks accentuated her full hips and tapered down to her bare feet. 

“Bit under dressed, aren’t you? Who doesn’t wear shoes to a business meeting?”

Hermione snorted and turned back into the conference room clearly expecting Draco to follow her. Draco nodded politely at the receptionist and did just that. The room was large with a massive conference table in the middle. There were twelve chairs, all but three were full of boxes that contained an ungodly amount of paper. Similarly, the table was littered with stacks of documents with red ink standing out among many of them. In a corner he saw a pile of take out containers and a stylish pair of white heels. 

“This place is a fucking fire hazard.” Draco said coolly. Hermione hummed as she sat back down and gestured to the chair across from her. 

“They document dumped us. Can you fucking believe it?” She threw her head back against her chair and let her arms sink to her sides. “We are trying to get them to stop literally killing people and they pull this bullshit.”

“I absolutely can. It's exactly what I would have done if I was them.” Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back up. Draco settled in his chair and placed his folders on the table, careful to make note of which ones he brought and which ones were already there. 

“Yes, but you’ve gone soft. Thank god.” Draco did wince that time. He didn’t feel soft but he knew it was true. Six years in pediatric medicine was something that did that to you. His barbs, while still frequent, lacked the edge they did when they were in school. 

“Load of good that does me. Now I get called in to help Gryffindor’s on their crusades.”

“I don’t need to remind you that you brought this case to me, Draco Malfoy. Not the other way around.”

“Yes well…” Draco had no real response. He  _ had  _ brought this case to her. Over the course of working in the Mental Maladies Ward, Draco had noticed that several of his charges had become manic after taking a potion designed for depression. The potion mentioned no side effects of the kind and Draco had been brushed off when he had written to the company that produced it. Draco hadn’t thought anything of it and had simply stopped prescribing it until the incident. Then he went to Hermione. 

“Like you said, soft.” Draco huffed and looked around the room again.

“I heard you ran into Harry.” He stilled. His jaw tensed as he tried to control his facial expressions. He blinked quickly and calmly looked at Hermione who was watching him closely. Her raised eyebrow told him that she could see right through his façade. 

“I got off on the incorrect floor. Potter pointed me to the stairs. How could you possibly know that? It was barely 10 minutes ago.”

“He texted me. You really should stop calling him Potter. We all know you don’t hate him.” 

“Why? It is perfectly acceptable to call someone, with whom I have no relationship, by their surname.”

“No relationship? Who do you think you’re kidding with that?” Hermione scoffed and Draco shot what he hoped was a fearsome glare. “Ah, I see. You are kidding yourself still. Draco if you just talked to him-”

“No. I have spent too much of my life allowing Potter to live rent free in my mind. You are correct. I don’t hate him. I just don’t care about him. It's indifference.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.”

“Even if it is, which is a big if by the way. He sent a very clear message about who he is and who I am. I am content to forget that he even existed.” A part of him knew his voice had taken on a fragile quality that would make Hermione back off for fear of breaking him, but he didn’t care. Sometime over the last ten years, she had become one of his closest friends. He could stand for her to hear the wobble in his voice that gave away the ridiculousness of the idea of Draco Malfoy forgetting Harry Potter existed. 

“Right, well. This conversation is not over, but I did call you to actually do work. I have these lab tests that describe…” Hermione started diving into the piles of paper and describing the jargon of testing that she needed help deciphering. 

Draco breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the folders that Hermione was pulling out of the box to her left. As he flipped through the documents, he summoned a muggle highlighter that Hermione had introduced him to in eighth year. It felt comfortable to sit with her like this. They could speak freely, neither dumbing themselves down for other company. Draco felt a warm feeling come over him as he looked at his friend. While much of his time in Hogwarts had led to unmitigated heartbreak and disaster, Draco had at least gained a friend from the tragedy. As he leaned back in his chair, he went to work on adding his notes to a test on the effects of valerian sprigs in early versions of the potion. 

In the comfort of work, he could almost pretend as if this was the only result of his friendship with Hermione. He could almost pretend that his life was peaceful and quiet. That he wasn’t a shattered piece of Harry Potter’s leftovers. That when he said that he forgot that Potter existed it didn’t kill him just a little. 


	2. Cornelia Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the work of J.K. Rowling and is not my intellectual property. I intend no copyright infringement and seek no financial gain from this work. This work of fiction is purely for entertainment purposes. Additionally, the lyrics presented in this story are the work of Taylor Swift and similarly I do not own or intend to profit from using her words.]

Chapter 2: Cornelia Street

“And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

The first few weeks of eighth year were almost exactly what Draco expected. Snide comments made under breath as he walked to his classes; cold looks from everyone he crossed paths with; jinxes and hexes thrown from those few second years that had returned. He couldn’t blame them. He had hardly been a beacon of hope for them in their first year. He hadn’t managed to crucio them the way his more hardened classmates had but he certainly hadn’t protected them. 

Draco was one of three Slytherin’s who chose to return to Hogwarts. Pansy and Blaise had taken to retreating to the eighth year common room and avoiding Draco at all costs when outside those walls to avoid the same treatment. The other eighth years had been the only surprise for Draco. He was almost disappointed to find that instead of the same hostility, the rest of their returning class seemed happy enough to ignore him.

Draco was content to allow things to continue that way too. He watched as Pansy and Blaise made their apologies and slowly started to integrate but he knew that he deserved every bit of apathy or anger that they could throw. He would show them eventually. He wasn’t who he had been and he wouldn’t rest until he could prove it. Without his father pressuring him into the political field, Draco was finally able to choose his future based on what he was good at, what he _wanted_. 

That was how Draco Malfoy had decided to become a healer. It felt like the most surefire way to assuage the guilt that kept him up at night. So, he studied and studied and studied. He barely left his room except to attend classes or to surround himself with books at the library. 

Everything changed when one day in late October, he looked up from a book on charming wounds closed to notice that Hermione Granger had settled at the seat across the table from him in the library. He looked around to see several tables empty and panic rose in his chest. _What was happening?_ He heard himself make a pathetic squeak and Hermione looked up from her own book. They held eye contact as Draco’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Then, Hermione did something he was not expecting. She went back to her book and her notes as if nothing had happened. 

Soon, Hermione joined him at his table any time Draco was in the library. They didn’t speak and they didn’t arrange to meet. If Draco made it to the library first, Hermione would join him and vise versa if she arrived first. They studied quietly and nodded their goodbyes or hellos. Draco was confounded by the truce and spent hours in bed theorizing on what Hermione was up to. What had he done to make this fragile relationship form? It was driving him crazy and his anxiety was threatening to crawl out of his skin. 

“Why are you here?” Draco spat one evening. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh but he found he could barely contain the words any longer. It had been a chilly November Sunday and they had holed up at their table for 3 hours already. Hermione looked up from her book in surprise. She furrowed her thick eyebrows confused. 

“What do you mean? I have an arithmancy essay due tomorrow. I need to finish it.”

“I mean why are you here with me? Sitting with me.”

Hermione sighed as if it was the stupidest question she had ever heard. “Draco, we do this every day. Why would I not sit with you?”

Draco gasped. “There! You do not call me by my first name! We aren’t friends!” Hermione laid down her quill and looked at him with an exasperated look on her face. 

“Are you seriously complaining?” 

“No. I mean yes! I mean no. I don’t know, alright?!” Draco crossed his arms across his chest and screwed up his face in consternation. Of course he wasn’t complaining but a part of him couldn’t trust that the motives were good. _No one was this good of a person_. 

“Ok, look. I came here everyday and I would sit at a table by myself.” She gestured over to another table nearby. “I would see you studying by yourself as well. Then one day, I saw a 3rd year explode your ink well.” Draco remembered that. The ink had soaked through several feet of his advanced potions essay. It had also cut him slightly underneath his right eye. He still had a small scar there. 

“I pulled out my wand ready to stop you from retaliating but you didn’t do anything. In fact, you barely even looked around to see who did it. You just sighed and vanished the ink. It ruined the essay you must have worked hours on and it cut your face. And you, Draco Malfoy, did nothing. I couldn’t understand it. You didn’t even heal yourself even though you are studying to be a healer.” She reaches across the table and brushes her thumb across his cheek with a familiarity that makes Draco inhale sharply. 

“I’m gay.”

“No shit.” Draco was almost offended except for the playful eyebrow that Hermione raised back at him. “Anyway, I asked Harry to follow you around to investigate. It’s always been his favorite hobby, you know? Stalking you?” Draco stared saucer eyed back at her as she continued to explain. “When he came back as confused as I was with dozens of examples like the one I had seen, I decided we should do something.”

“What?”

“Have you really not noticed that no one has messed with you in weeks?” Draco looked away from her racking his brain for the last time anyone had hexed him or spelled his chair out from under him. It had been weeks, close to a month actually. He met her eyes again cautiously, the question in his eyes clear as day.

“Harry lost it on the last one. Sent a bat bogey at them that rivaled Ginny’s. I managed to grab one of them by the scruff and tell him and his little friends to back off. After that, it kind of took care of itself.” She shrugged nonchalantly as if standing up for someone who had spent the better part of 6 years torturing her was an everyday occurance. Draco looked at her in disbelief. He knew his jaw was bobbing back and forth like a goldfish in a wholly undignified manner. 

“Why would he do that? Why would you? After everything I-“

“Get over yourself, Draco. You aren’t the worst thing that’s happened to us.” Hermione smiles a lopsided smile that shocks Draco as much as her words. “After that, I figured I would sit with you when I came to study myself. Took you four days to notice which is not a good indicator of your attention to detail, mate.”

Draco continued to stare at her. This was the woman he had called slurs for years, the woman he had delighted in being stunned by a basilisk, the woman he had watched scream on his living room floor as his aunt had carved “mudblood” into her arm. How could she be so cavalier?

“Can we go back to our work now? I really need to get this done before 10. I promised Ron I would watch him play Blaise in chess.” She maintained her eye contact until Draco closed his mouth and nodded once at her. Then she nodded back and returned to her writing. Draco continued to stare at her for several more minutes. 

“That’s really creepy and I won’t sit with you again if you don’t cut it out.” Hermione didn’t even look up from her work. Draco flushed bright pink. 

“Sorry! I’ll just…” He looked down at his own paper even though he knows instinctively that he won’t be able to think of anything but the fact that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger came to his rescue. Unable to stop himself, Draco continued to sneak glances at Hermione wondering if this was some elaborate prank. 

“Ok, you are obviously not working and I think that if I revise this essay one more time, it may end up actually being worse. Want to head back to the dorms?” She was already packing up her things and Draco quickly toyed with the thought of protesting that he had been indeed working. However, he hadn’t had anyone to walk with him anywhere in so long. The thought made him feel lighter than he had in years. He bit his lip as he surveyed his things on the table. 

“Yes, I think I would like that very much.”

Draco delighted in the quick flash of shock that crossed Hermione’s face. It was obvious for all of her bravado, she did not expect him to accept her offer. The smile he got in return was almost blinding.

* * *

It had been three months since Draco had returned to the common room with Hermione. He had followed in after Harry’s friend as if he was worried that at any moment someone would challenge his right to be within 5 feet of her. In all fairness, if Ron hadn’t listened to Harry and Hermione conspiring to get the blonde out of his shell for a month, he may have been right. As it was, Ron had simply looked up from his chess game and said “Finally. ‘Bout time you actually caught on, Ferret. Now watch me destroy your buddy here." 

Since that day, Draco and Hermione had been attached at the hip. Sitting with each other at meals and in class. Writing to each other almost constantly over the winter hols. Ron had bemoaned losing his guaranteed A but Harry hadn’t even the energy to be offended. Since the war, he had been floating through life, positively numb. In fact, the only time that he had felt anything like his former self was when he had hexed those 4th years that had gone after Draco. He remembered the flame that burst in his chest as he came to the other man’s defense. Harry had explained the incident to Ron as a reaction to anyone who would disturb the peace that he had fought and lost so many people for. Harry didn’t see the need in thinking about it past that. 

It was Saturday, the week before Valentine’s day, and Harry had been charged with keeping Hermione busy so that Ron could go to Hogsmede and buy her a present. They had been at the library for two hours already and Harry was starting to think he didn’t need to do anything to keep her away, her studies and Draco were more than enough for that. Draco sat across from where Hermione was settled surrounded by books writing furiously in the margins of what looked to be a herbology textbook. Hermione sat next to Harry, brows furrowed and nose scrunched, taking meticulous notes in a large journal. Harry on the other hand was doodling.

He had returned for eighth year to avoid the outside world not to learn anything. His short stint with the mind healer convinced him he wasn’t ready to face the limelight of being a war hero. He wasn’t confident enough in what he would like to do to go right into any career so he went back to the only place he felt safe. Now, he wasted his days away playing chess with Ron and avoiding Ginny. 

Shortly before school started, she had cornered him at the Burrow and asked him if they would ever be getting back together. Harry had looked at her and tried to summon the pull he had felt for her in his sixth year. In the end, he hadn’t been able to feel anything. His silence was answer enough for Ginny because she had flipped her long red locks and said that if he was too big of a pussy to make the decision himself, she would make it for him. When they returned to school, she was holding hands with Neville who had shot Harry an apologetic look. To Harry’s surprise, he felt nothing at seeing them. He knew then that Ginny had been right to break it off. He also knew that he had never felt more broken. _Who couldn’t even feel something for someone like Ginny? What was wrong with him?_

“Running to the loo.” Hermione said as she stood up. She walked out of the library and Harry returned his attention to his doodle of what he imagined the baby of the giant squid and Slughorn would look like.

“Aren’t you going to follow her?” Draco grumbled from behind his book. Harry looked up sharply. They didn’t speak. That was an unspoken rule between them it seemed. They would be in the same room, party, table, whatever but they would speak to everyone but each other.

“Why would I do that?”

Draco looked up from his book with a puzzled look on his face. “You are going to make such a shit auror. Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on her for Weasley?”

“How did you know that- wait. Did he ask you to do the same?!” Draco’s raised his eyebrow as he returned to his book. It was all the confirmation that Harry needed. “Bullocks! I could have been off playing quidditch or doing something more interesting if I knew that you were in on it.” Draco tilted and bobbed his head slightly in agreement.

“Wait, but if you are supposed to keep an eye out, why aren’t you following her?” Harry shot back. _Got him!_

“Because she will love whatever he gets her whether she sees it now or next week. She’s mad about him. So, I don’t really care.”

Harry looked at Draco and couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. Soon, he is laughing hysterically and Draco looks at him as if he has lost it. Harry leaned back in his chair and continued to laugh in a way he hasn’t in months. 

Harry vaguely registered Draco getting up from his seat and walking around the table to stand next to his chair. His cool hand came down on Harry’s forehead and Harry abruptly stopped. Draco had leaned over him to check his temperature and from that angle Harry was able to see the concern in his steel eyes. His lithe body was leaning against the edge of the table and his leg was pressed against Harry’s knee. Harry met his gaze and held it. For a full minute, they stayed like that, neither wanting to break the spell their closeness had caused. Draco didn’t remove his hand and didn’t look away. Harry’s heart fluttered and a molten pit started to form in the base of his stomach. 

It's as if a deluminator has been uncapped and all the light has returned to Harry’s world. His heart ached from the rush of emotions that flooded into it, breathing life back into what felt collapsed. He had tried for so long to force himself to snap out of trance he was in after the war but nothing had worked. Something about Draco has always gotten under his skin and in some sick way, Harry can’t control himself around the other man. Apparently, that included not being able to control his apathy as well. 

“Ahem.” Hermione cleared her throat as she took her seat again. Draco pulled his hand back and instead rubbed the back of his neck as he blushed a pretty pink. Draco explained that Harry seemed ill with his maniacal laugh and he couldn’t afford for the chosen one to die on his watch. Harry can not tear his eyes away. The blush hadn’t gone away and when Harry inhaled, he was surrounded by the scent of water blossom, salt and ink. It wasn’t until Draco stood up fully and returned to his seat that Harry realized that he was hard. 

* * *

After that day in the library, Harry regularly joined Draco and Hermione as they continued to study. He blew off his friends and quidditch in favor of spending hours in the library with the two. Hermione was thrilled that he was taking school more seriously and even more thrilled to see him start to smile more often. She wasn’t wrong either, he had never been so current with his schoolwork and even though it had only been 5 days since that first day, he had already aced several assignments as a result of the extra work. 

However, Draco was more suspicious than Hermione. When Harry looked up from his assignments, more often than not, Draco was staring at him. Harry loves these moments because Draco would quickly look away, the tinge of pink on his cheeks the only evidence of being caught. Harry found himself desperate to get the other boy alone and see what else could be drawn back into the light. 

Finally, Valentine’s Day arrived and Harry could put his plan into action. The trio was in the library at their usual spot when Ron burst in disturbing the calm atmosphere.

“Hermione! Why are you still here?! We have a reservation in 20 minutes!” All eyes turned to Hermione, who was pouring over a book with a highlighter stuck between her teeth. She grumbled around the highlighter as she looked at her watch. Upon seeing the time, she spit out the marker and started apologizing profusely. She and Ron gathered her things and rush out of the library without so much as a goodbye.

Harry looked to Draco who was still staring at where Ron and Hermione had been. They are alone. For the first time since that day, they don’t have anyone around them and with the holiday there was a very small chance anyone else would come upon them in their corner of the library. Harry moved.

Since that day, Harry had thought of nothing but what he would do when he got Malfoy alone again. He didn’t know if he was gay or if it had been a fluke but Harry was desperate to chase the feeling of embers that had been sparked when Draco touched him. His skin itched to be closer to any feeling at all and he could feel himself starting to darken everyday. He walked over to Draco’s side of the table and leaned against the edge as Draco had that day.

“What are you doing for Valentines?” Draco looked at him as if he had grown another head.

“Studying.” He spoke as if spending a romantic holiday in a stuffy library was what everyone did. Harry let a devilish grin grow on his face.

“Let’s go flying.”

* * *

Draco had no idea what was happening. He was in the quidditch locker room pulling on his leathers 3 feet away from Harry Potter. It was like so many of those late night fantasies Draco had used to keep himself sane during the war. After Harry had asked him to go flying, Draco had been silent. Harry, ever the optimist, had taken that as agreement and packed up their things. The next thing Draco knew, Harry had taken his hand and was dragging him towards the pitch. They had dumped their packs in the locker room and had set to changing. 

Draco felt panic rising and threatening to itch out of his skin as he considered the possibilities of what this meant. _It’s Valentine’s Day. You are alone. He knows this. Why would he do that? Did Hermione tell him that I’m gay? Is he being nice? Does he pity me? Is he gay? Am I interested? Of course, I’m interested but what if it doesn’t mean anything?_ Draco finished tying his shoes just as Harry jerked him out of his thoughts and offered him a broom.

“Seekers game alright?”

Draco nodded dumbly and accepted the broom. He hadn’t been flying in so long. In fact, the last time he was on a broom was that night in the Room of Requirement. Guilt pooled in Draco’s gut as he thought of Vince. Why should Draco be getting to fly with Harry on Valentine's while his friend lay rotting in the ground. He frantically tried to blink away the tears that welled in his eyes before Harry saw them but his reflexes are no match.

“We don’t have to play a game if it makes you that upset.” Draco guffawed as he realized that Harry had probably not given any thought to what flying was to Draco now. He had no idea what this meant to him and how deeply his guilt cut into his bones. Draco felt a tightness rise in his throat like a thousand little hands trying to claw their way out. 

“No, a seekers game is fine.” His voice cracked. 

“Really, Malfoy. If you don’t want to –“

Draco stood up, meeting Harry’s eyes and mustered as much courage as he could to push past his feelings. _Focus on what you know._ “No. Please. I would really like to play a seekers game with you.” 

Draco wished that his voice hadn’t come out as desperate as it sounded but Harry’s pupils widened a bit at the pleading and flitted down to Draco’s lips in a way that Draco had filed away for spiraling on later. _Focus Malfoy._ They were barely 6 inches apart, anything could have caused that reaction. Draco simply was only noticing it because they were so close. As if catching himself, Harry nodded quickly and stepped towards the door.

“Brilliant. Let’s go.” Draco followed him onto the pitch. He gripped his broom and steadied his breathing. He could do this. As much as Vince would have hated who he was flying with, he would have wanted Draco to go on living. With that thought, he swung his leg over the broom and kicked off.

The feel of the cold night air whipping against skin was transcendent. Draco flew around the pitch several times maneuvering up and down in the sky. He had forgotten how freeing it was to fly. He had always loved it from the moment he got his first broom for his 5th birthday. He used to spend his youthful days flying around the grounds of the manor, thinking of how he would defy his father and become the best quidditch player there ever had been. 

As he took on speed, he closed his eyes and focused on how the wind shifted around him and the sharp comforting smell of grass that filled his nostrils. When he opened his eyes, he saw Harry watching him from across the arena. His face was unreadable but he stared at Draco as if he had never seen anything like him.

“Sorry about that. Got carried away.” That seemed to snap Harry out of his thoughts. “Did you bring the snitch?”

Harry nodded and let the small golden ball come to life in his hand before buzzing off towards the east. Draco watched Harry for a moment longer before cocking his head to the side and allowing a wild smile to spread across his face. “Scared, Potter?” With that he shot off in the direction of the snitch almost too quickly to hear Harry bark out laughter and shout, “You wish.”

* * *

They flew for hours. The moon rose higher and higher in the sky and illuminated their game. Draco’s mind hadn’t felt so quiet in years. He hadn’t won but each loss propelled him to push harder and fly faster the next game. He would be sore the next morning but he felt like he would sleep better than he had all year. As the moon reached the center of the sky, Harry flew closer to him.

“Let’s head in. I don’t think McGonagall's unity agenda extends to quidditch.” Harry called in the snitch with a quick accio and started to descend. Draco looked up at the moon and let his eyes close again. The calm that washed over him was so serene that Draco almost called out to Potter to say that he would risk it. He held himself there for a second longer and then followed Harry to the ground.

The dark haired boy was waiting for him when he landed and wore the same expression he had had earlier. Draco opened his mouth to ask what he was thinking but before he could, Harry was surging towards him and pressing their mouths together. Harry’s hand came up to the base of Draco’s neck as he pulled them together. His other hand still frigid from the sharp air slid up Draco’s shirt to thumb the small of his back in a possessive motion. Draco’s mouth opened in shock and Harry took it as an invitation to slide his tongue into his mouth. Draco remained motionless until Harry pulled back and looked at him questioningly.

“I’m so sorry, I should have as-“ Draco grabbed Harry’s head and pulled them into another feverish kiss. This time Draco let his body take over. He ran his hands through Harry’s windswept hair and moaned wantonly as Harry bit his bottom lip. He tasted of chocolate and freshly cut grass and just everything Harry. Draco could not get enough. His mind was so blissed out from the combination of sky and Harry, that he couldn’t even process a coherent thought let alone analyze what this meant. 

They stood there for several more moments before parting with equally goofy smiles aimed at each other. Laughing, Harry took his hand in his and pulled Draco back to the lockers. Draco looked back at the pitch as he was led along. He thought to himself as it disappeared from view that if this went poorly he would never be able to come back here. Hell, part of him knew that if Harry walked away, Draco would never fly again but in that moment Draco would have risked anything for the man that was pulling him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter on or before next Friday.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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